I Was Cinderella
by rupin
Summary: It all became a blur. A blur of witches and cheesecakes, liquor and tears, what I want and what I am, past and present. //Witch Vivi and Angela//TOT Two Shot//
1. Chapter 1

I originally intended for this to be a one-shot, but it ended up being too long so I'm splitting it into a two-shot. Please enjoy~

Throughout the story I want to emphasize Angie's different styles of writing and how it suits her mood. I think that will make it a bit more readable ;;; 

Consider this a late holiday present? Happy Holidays all~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon.

…

Witches were something I never really considered.

I mean, I guess in a town like this one they were entirely possible – we had a Harvest Goddess, why not a witch? Completely believable. We also had a wizard, so why no witch? If we're going to have one, we should have the other. It's only balanced.

Which is why, in all the weirdness that was Waffle Town, I could never fathom why a witch was so hated. Among all the mythical characters that lived here, she seemed like she would be the most normal.

I had never met her of course, but the rumors that pulsed through the town square during the sunny mornings were sufficient enough to get the general public's idea of her – a stuck-up bitch. Maybe this was true, maybe it wasn't, I never took time to fully consider it. If they said that's what she was like, then I guess that's what she was like. It's not like I was ever going to meet her, right?

That's all that ran through my head this morning. Luna had been telling me the gossip while I helped her sew a new outfit for the shop, and it just so happened a witch came up. I wasn't really listening, but I heard Luna say something along the lines of, "But her hair is pretty so I can't hate her too much," and it just haunted me for the rest of the day. What was Luna's definition of pretty hair? Is there another girl in this town with cotton candy pink hair? What if a fight breaks out between her and another weird-haired resident?

It didn't hit me until two hours lately that even Luna had heard of this witch woman.

And everyone here knew of this woman.

I felt kind of left out that I had never met her.

But if she was as bad as they say, was I missing out?

No.

I wasn't.

…

Kathy, Luna and Selena all agree that I have to go out more.

Screw them. I get out enough. It's hard enough to be a farmer and go to the bar and tailor shop every night.

…

Luna said she wouldn't care if I came to the tailor shop less, as long as I was meeting new people.

Candace said she would miss me.

It is obvious which sister I like better now.

…

Selena, who is the only person who can stay sober while working at a bar, told me that she remembered when I was an adorable little girl who came to this town, not a cynical woman with a hunched back.

I scowled.

She glared.

I was too drunk to remember anything after that, but I think I started crying.

Not like I was sad or anything, I just...started crying.

Alcohol burns my eyes, that's why.

…

Oh, who am I kidding?

…

Kathy told me I had to stop this.

Kathy told me she missed the old me.

I told Kathy I missed her too.

…

I heard people talk about the witch today.

I still want to meet her.

…

I didn't go out today.

I couldn't bear to see the look on their faces when they would see me just get drunk and start crying again.

I need to control myself.

Why can't I control myself?

…

I was walking through the forest today.

I like forests. They're nice. They're quiet. There's nothing there but trees and herbs and maybe a couple of animals but no people and no liquor and only silence and I like them.

Except today was different. There was another person.

Whenever I'm scared, I revert back to how I used to be. My defense goes down.

I saw a girl in the forest, and instead of being tough, strong Angela, I was cute, naïve Angie.

I hate this. I hate this. I hate this.

…

The girl didn't really look at me. She kind of glanced my way briefly before bending over and returning to whatever she was doing before.

I kept staring.

She glanced back.

"...Do you want something from me?"

"Uh, no."

"Then why are you just standing there?"

"...I don't really know."

"Do you want to be of use?"

"O-ok."

"Go get me three mushrooms."

I got her three mushrooms.

…

I think I met the witch today.

She was skinny and pretty, like everyone said. She had yellow eyes ('evil eyes' as one had hissed). She had long, silver hair that kind of shimmied when she moved and glittered in the sunlight and was kind of amazing.

I totally met the witch today.

She didn't seem that bad.

…

I was dazed when I went to the Bar.

I was so dazed that I didn't even make a snarky comment when I saw Chase.

I just floated over to the stool I always sat at and smiled at Hayden and Kathy and Selena and Jake and Colleen and just sat there and it was weird but I just sat there.

Kathy grinned.

"There's my girl!"

…

Kathy says I should just get over it.

Selena says I should just get over it.

Luna says I should just get over it.

I say I should just get over it.

Why can't I just get over it?

…

I said I would write it down. Just to get it out.

I'm writing it down. Here. Now.

Nothing is going to stop me.

…

Something stopped me.

I am a such a fucking coward.

…

I've been seeing The Witch every day now.

I've decided to start capitalizing 'The Witch' so it feels more like her name.

I am such a stalker.

…

I'm going to write it down.

I'm going to write it down.

I'm going to write it down.

Tomorrow.

…

The Witch and I talked today:

"Hey, you!" (this is her)

"Uh, yeah?" (me: oh fuck she saw me oh god oh god oh god she must think I'm creepy oh shit shit shit)

"Are you stalking me?" (no translation needed, she's kind of blunt)

"O-of course n-n-" (me: oh god oh god oh god)

"You don't have to lie."

"I prefer a term other than 'stalk.' (me: please don't think I'm creepy please please please)

"Hey, if you're going to stalk me, shouldn't we both benefit?"

"...huh?" (me: did she just say she was ok with my unhealthy obsession with her?)

"Here's the deal: you bring me a food I like every day, and I'll let you stalk me. Sounds fair?"

"O-ok...what foods do you like?" (me: I am so confused right now that I'll just not argue and go along with this.)

"What kind of stalker are you? Shouldn't you know that?"

I turn to walk away.

"I like cheesecake. I really want cheesecake! And good cheesecake, too!"

…

Here I am with Chase, learning how to cook cheesecake.

What is this what is this what is this oh I don't even.

I'm stuck in a tiny kitchen with Chase learning how to bake a cake for a woman (witch?) who agreed to let me stalk her and how would I explain this to anybody without seeming insane.

…

I'm writing it now. All of it. And I'm going to write like I know how to write. I won't turn back. I won't slip into stupid trances. I'm going to write like I used to, before cheesecakes and sarcastic comments and _especially_ before beautiful silver-haired witches.

This is a fucking essay bitches.

…

I'm actually very good at cooking.

Just thought I'd get that out there before I started.

…

There will be no names, because I'm not a stupid bitch and I won't go down that low.

Let's start with A. A's nice. She's sweet. She's a naive little girl come to Waffle Town to be a Farmer.

Enter S, K and L. These are A's friends. Best friends. They love her and protect her from everything. They tell who's an asshole and who's a big asshole and who is actually worth thirty seconds of her time.

And they said he was safe. Safe enough. There wasn't enough info on him, but he was good. Cute. Cool. Nice. Everything A wanted in a man. This guy – let's call him B.

…

I can't write anymore. I can't. I can't. It just hurts too much.

I want to go back to my world of cheesecakes and sarcasm and witches while it's still here, perfect and the best escape.

…

I went into her house I went into her house I went into her house

…

What happened:

"Here you go."

Exchange cheesecake. She holds the cheesecake. Looks at it. Takes a bite. Smiles. Frowns.

"I wanted strawberry ice cream today."

"Huh?"

"I wanted cheesecake yesterday. But now I want strawberry ice cream."

"O-ok..."

"Oh, just come inside and let me eat this at a table. You ain't half bad at cooking, you know. If only I had some ice cream..."

And then she took me inside and apparently she lives in the forest but her house is nice and it was nice and she sat there and ate the cheesecake and smiled at me once and _it killed me._

…

Chase is wondering why I'm back.

I won't say anything.

He's upset and snarky.

I'm too happy to have him take me down.

…

A loved B. She loved him a lot. Throughout the days they created many memories of lovely moments.

Life was good.

And I could go into detail of every second, but it doesn't matter now. But there is one time, one memory that really breaks A.

It was the day he told her that they were like a fairytale.

And, together – the dainty princess A and the charming prince B – they could achieve a happy ending.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

…

I heard more whispers in town today.

"That whore!"

"I can't believe it!"

"I said we should have never let a witch into this town! She's only causing trouble."

I ran away, the ice cream under my arm.

…

I went to her house anyway, with the ice cream. All I needed to know if there was someone – or, uh, something – at her house. If there was, I bolt. If there isn't, all of those whispers weren't true and never were.

She answers.

She sees the ice creams.

She makes a variety of expressions, but settles with scowling.

I go in.

…

She notices I'm upset as she scarfs down her ice cream – after telling me she wanted pumpkin pie, which I have determined is her code for 'I'm grateful but I won't say it so I'll act like I'm only eating this out of pity.'

Her golden eyes glance up at me and stop. "What did you hear this time?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I know what they say about me."

"Who's 'they'?"

"You're a terrible liar."

"I-I..."

"You know what pisses me off?" She slams her spoon down. "None of them – not one! - have ever bothered to ask my name. Never! If I'm a witch, then I will be called 'The Witch' and that will forever be the only thing that ever identifies me in this town. All I am is the stupid, greedy, slutty witch. They don't even know my name, and yet they think they can pass judgment on me?"

Silence.

"So...what is your name?"

Her face looks like it is in pain but then it softens up and she turns to me with the slightest hint of a smile on her perpetually scowling face and says, "Vivi. My name is Vivi."

"Vivi is a pretty name."

And it looks like, for a split second, she's going to say thank you, but then she returns to scowling and tells me she wants pumpkin pie before pushing me out of her house.

I was ecstatic all day.

…

Vivi is a pretty name.

I like it.

It's got a nice ring to it.

I think it really suits her.

I wished I could be called Angie again.

Angie and Vivi rhyme.

Sort of.

…

I was at the bar like I was every night and Selena took her spot next to me and smiled.

"You've been looking good these days, Angie."

I grinned through all my whiskey and cocktails and vodka. I grinned and I grinned and I looked like an idiot but I kept grinning.

I miss being called Angie.

I miss it.

I miss her.

…

B broke A's heart in the most gut-wrenching, horrible way.

It wasn't just cheating – A could forgive that. It wasn't just lying – A was a liar herself. It wasn't just drugs or alcohol. It was more. It was different. It wasn't me or him or her or them or they, it was everyone and everything and all of it.

And I'm not strong enough. I never will be.

Angie wasn't. Angela isn't.

I'm not.

…

Vivi became my life.

I saw her every day, no matter what. She never ever wanted what I offered her, always complaining. Yet, at the same time, she was always happy to see me.

She's nonchalant. Paints her nails while I clean her house. Watches TV while I bake her cakes. Takes naps when I'm finally ready to tell her I'm leaving.

She's everything I'm not and everything I want to be and when I'm with her, I'm happy. I'm more happy than anyone in the world and I can finally forget.

I can be Angie. She was the one who made me Angie again.

In the weirdest, most twisted way, she is my best friend.

…..........


	2. Chapter 2

I have to admit, despite the fact that I do have Animal Parade, I have not befriended Vivi to this point. So I'm kind of BS-ing what would happen based on what I know of her original personality. Don't hit me ;;;;

The pace of this chapter is much different. 

I hope you like ~

Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon.

…

Vivi and I are not just friends.

Not after today.

Not ever again.

…

Days had passed since I first met Vivi in the hot days of Summer.

Whispers had fallen on deaf ears. I never paid attention to them any more. Vivi was my everything. Only I could see through her exterior. Only I could see the real, sweet girl that lied within the witch.

Summer fell into Fall. The nights grew longer, days shorter. Life slowed down as I farmed the last haul of my crops. Winter was not far away.

This was the setting. This was it.

…

She and I had become true friends. We were no longer the stalker and her obsession, but rather two girls that knew each other.

I saw her everyday. I brought her something, and she would scowl. She would ask for something else, but all in all she'd still eat what I'd make her. My skills in the kitchen grew to rival those of Chase, which, of course, only pissed him off more.

But I didn't care. As long as I had Vivi, I was untouchable.

…

Maybe I should have known that one day our relationship would cross the line.

Maybe the rumors were true and she really was just a cruel seductress, only after my body.

But, for some reason, I can't believe them.

Because evil women don't touch me like she did; evil women do not kiss like she did. Most of all, evil women do not love like she does.

..

"Angie..." Her voice came cooing to me from her bed, where she laid curled up in a ball.

"What is it?" I was used to her last minute cries for sweets, or manicures, or clothes. They kept me on my toes.

"I want..." she breathed out, before sighing and flipping over on her side.

"What do you want?"

No response.

"Ice cream? Cake? Candy?"

"Angie..."

"I'll cook anything for you, you know that."

"...is a cute name. A cute name for a cute girl."

"Vivi, what's wrong?" I walked into the foyer and sat down beside her. She was turned away from me, her breathing heavy. "Are you sick?"

"Angie..."

"What is it?"

"Do you like me?" Quickly, she snapped her head over so she met my eyes. Her yellow eyes, normally nonchalant or slightly narrowed, were open wide. They were open wide and screamed of innocence. I had never seen her quite as simple as she looked right then. She was not a witch. She was...a girl.

Just a girl.

"Of course I like you," I scoffed, slightly offended that she would ask such a question. If I didn't like her, why would I come every day?

"No, no, no...like me. Like me. Do you?" Her voice was cracking now, sentences incoherent.

"I said yes."

"No." She grabbed my arm, pulled herself up and made me lean closely into her. "Like me. Love me."

The next few minutes passed slowly. Like honey, they took forever, yet they were sweet.

I savored what I could.

…

I was in love with a witch. The Witch Princess Vivi. I was in love with her.

She was all mine.

…

Fall ended in a blur of kisses, sweet evenings and long nights. The past month went by too fast. I wish I could slow it down and play it on repeat forever.

But, I do not want to have the special feeling of the fleeting moments that I spent with her leave. Something about all the time we have together is made slightly more important with the knowledge that it will only happen once. This date will only occur once in history, and in the history of us, we should make it something different.

We can look back on those days and remember, and wish we would relive. And yet, its best that we don't. The future is all the more better if we don't.

…

If she is the Witch _Princess_ Vivi, then what am I?

There is never two princesses. At least, they never fall in love. So what am I? The prince? Somehow, that doesn't seem to fit. The prince always saves the princess, but I feel like Vivi was the one who saved me.

…

That feeling has returned.

In the rush of preparing for Winter, I felt as if something in our relationship had been lost. It was cold, almost isolated. Our time together was limited to one hour or less, based on what I had to accomplish during the day. One hour was never enough.

It's back now. The warmth. The heat. The feeling of me and her, no one else.

It has returned.

And all it took was a bowl of egg soup.

…

She really is selfish.

All she wanted from me was egg soup. Egg soup!

I cooked it for her, because I am an obedient girlfriend(?) who will do whatever her girlfriend(?) (again) wants.

But egg soup is something Vivi will pay a high price for.

...

Life blended into one string of occurrences. Time didn't pass in minutes, or hours, or days or weeks or months. The only marker was when I saw Vivi. Everything else didn't matter.

But today meant a bit more than others. It rose above the rest.

Maybe it was the howl of the wind, or the quiet of the forest. Maybe it was the cloudy sky, maybe it was the bare trees. But there was something, something, anything, that just made today different.  
So different that I could swear I saw an angel fall. And that angel was her.

I fell into her and she fell into me.

…

It was perfect. Everything.

I have her now. And she has me. We are together. We are one.

...

She left today.

She left today.

She left today.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

...

It wasn't goodbye it wasn't tears it wasn't hugs it was just wake up one morning and she's not there and I'm so upset I'm not going to use commas or periods and fuck fuck fuck this is what my life has become and she's gone oh she's gone and I know she's not coming back.

…

For some reason, I wasn't shocked when she wasn't there this morning.

I guess there is some little part of me that is so used to having _**everything I want taken right from me**_ that it didn't shock me. I _**should **_have seen it coming. I _**must **_have seen it coming. Because this is me and this is my life and I guess I'm just that girl that has to live her life miserably forever in order to make sure everyone else has a soul mate, even if the one I think I truly loved is another girl.

Because that's just how it is.

…

I will not be mad because I am a mature adult and I am above crying over lost boyfriends.

Or, um, girlfriends.

…

I kept up the act for three days.

Three days.

I can't believe I lasted that long.

…

I was sitting at the bar just like I used to, before witches and cakes and snowfalls.

The cocktails came out and before I knew it I was wasted and crying on Kathy's lap.

Before I knew it, I was the little girl crying over her boyfriend. I was Angie just as I was all that time ago, crying because they'll never come back.

…

She left you, get over it.

Why can't I?

…

I'm letting it go.

She wasn't mine, she isn't mine, she never will be. And I don't know what part of me though she was. Because she wasn't. Isn't. Couldn't.

I will live my life, and I will let it go, just like how I always wished I could let him go and he never would. Like how I finally did, when she walked into my life.

…

It's almost been two weeks.

I think I'm learning how to let her go.

I've only given her passing thoughts of late.

Of course, with me, passing thought turn into late night bawling sessions when sober and dear god even worse when drunk.

…

I saw her.

Standing amongst the fallen snowflakes, the moon being the only light to see her with, her silver hair glistening as she stood there, eyes downcast.

She was dressed simply for once. No puffy skirts or corsets or embellishments. Just a plain black minidress and shoes with some white stockings. No gradients. No creams. No grays. Everything was black and white.

This was it. We wouldn't be gray anymore. This is the moment of truth.

I shoved open my window and stuck out my head. I wouldn't say anything. She had to talk first.

"Angie..."

I blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. I swallowed the sensation of throwing up and stared back at her.

"Angie..." she murmured again, stepping towards me. She had once again resumed that look of innocent. Her eyes were large and round, not narrowed and angry. She looked sweet and sad, like someone out of a movie – just as always.

Another step. She was merely feet away from me.

"Why?" I looked her in the eye, the tears beginning to flood down.

Another step.

"Don't come near me unless you want to tell me why!"

"Angie..."

"Vivi! Do you think that you could just step out like that?! I have a heart too!"

"Angie..." She was next to me now, but that didn't stop me. I kept crying, wailing as I screamed out everything I had wanted to say.

"You are a witch! You are nothing more than a witch! I always though it was lies, but it wasn't. You are as evil as they always portrayed you. You are not better than anyone, you tricked me. You evil woman...evil woman..."

She pressed her hand against my lips and whispered ever so quietly into my ear, "Why can't you even believe your own words?"

"What are you talking about?" I pulled back from her dainty fingers, not wanting her cold skin to press against mine. Never again. Never again. Never again.

…

I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess. I am not a princess.

Don't fall for it again.

I am not a princess.

…

"Come with me tonight."

"Why would I?"

"The fairy godmother's powers only work until sunrise. But, for one night, you can be Cinderella. Be the princess you always wanted."

"...why would I want to be a princess?"

"Because its everything you ever wanted. Because princesses are loved, and get happily ever afters that really do last forever. Because princesses don't have to worry about losing their loves or other women or men or anything."

"Because the princess gets to spend a night with the witch."

…

I don't remember much.

But I was happy. I was so happy I could cry.

She took me out, she showed me around. We danced. We cried. We sung.

We forgot the past – the heartbreak, the tears, the pain. We let it all slip away.

We were new, not used, not different, not old, not sluts, not witches, not broken. We were what we always wanted.

It was like the perfect.

…

She's everything I'm not and everything I want to be and when I'm with her, I'm happy. I'm more happy than anyone in the world and I can finally forget.

It's true. I love her, I love her, I love her. Because of her, I'm back.

She's not perfect, and yes, she has broken me. But she has fixed me so much more.

I don't want to be without her. And yet, if she leaves again, I will not cry. She gave me more than what I ever wanted. She gave me happiness, a chance to go back and the will to forget.

Most of all, she gave me my fairytale.

I'm Cinderella. No matter what happens, there was a point where I was Cinderella and she was my Fairy Godmother. There is no way that can ever change.


End file.
